No Questions Asked
by dezel
Summary: It's surreal to Anya to see Amelia so sad, it's almost like her world was thrown off it's axis and the only way to fix it was to make Amelia smile again.


_implied/off screen homophobia._

* * *

When Anya's phone rings, she's nearly asleep, curled up underneath what seems like a million blankets and of course, she's cranky when she's pulled from her slumber. Amelia's name flashes on the screen, complete with a picture of Amelia sticking her tongue out.

"Yes, Amelia?"

There's a sniffle and a pause, and finally, "Hey uh, I know this is weird an' all, but could you come pick me up? No questions asked?" Another pause. "I don't know where I am."

Anya sits up now, a little curious. The two aren't exactly friends, but they don't hate each other either. If anything, they just find the other tolerable and try not to get into each others' way. The reason they even have each others phone numbers was because of project they had to do together during their senior year of high school.

"_Da_," Anya finally says. "Describe where you are, and I'll try to be there as soon as possible." So Amelia does, the best she can, with slurred words and heavy pauses where she's drawing in deep breaths and a little hiccup.

It takes Anya an hour to find her, on the other side of the city, with knees drawn to her chest. When she rolls up, Amelia's head lifts up for a moment before dropping again. Honestly seeing the usually exuberant girl looking so glum almost feels like a weird dream. She cuts the engine, and gets out, sitting next to Amelia on the bench.

"You are not wearing any pants." Anya doesn't know whether she's asking or stating, but at least it breaks the ice and cracks a small smile on Amelia's face.

"No, I guess I'm not." Amelia agrees. "'S fuckin' cold."

"Want me to take you home?"

There's this long stretch of silence, with no movement from Amelia and Anya wonders why.

"I can't go back there." Amelia finally says, her voice cracking. Anya gets up, and helps Amelia stand up as well and leads her to her car. The ride back home feels longer than it should, and Amelia still hasn't really looked at her. At some point, Amelia leans against Anya, staring blankly out the windshield. The only noise is the quiet hum of the car engine and the _taptaptap _of Amelia's fingers hitting against her phone.

When they do reach Anya's home, Amelia is half asleep and Anya is forced to lead her by the hand to the house.

"Need something to wear?"

Amelia shrugs, "It doesn't mater." Her voice is quiet, and once again, Anya feels like she's in some twisted dream. It's as if her world was thrown off it's axis, spun around and suddenly, everything is different and the only way to make it right is to make sure Amelia goes back to normal. Even if the normal Amelia is barely tolerable.

Anya licks her lips and heads to her dresser, opening up one of her drawers and procures a pink nightshirt with pandas decorating it.

"Here," She tosses the shirt to Amelia. The other girl catches it easily, and pulls off her bomber jacket, and hangs it up on the back of Anya's desk chair and pulls the nightshirt on, slender body disappearing underneath cloth much bigger than her. As Amelia had done that, Anya thinks she saw bruises on her upper arm, and wonders where they're from.

She opens her mouth to ask, and then closes it again. _No questions asked. _She lets Amelia crawl into bed first, and joins her after. They keep a space between them, Amelia on her side and facing the wall, and Anya on her back, staring at the ceiling. Finally, Amelia rolls on her back and searches out Anya's hand and their fingers intertwine. Anya tries to suppress a smile and only almost fails, and looks at Amelia out of the corner of her eye. She's crying again.

It's so surreal, and she's seeing the most private part of Amelia, the vulnerable side where the secrets are kept away. She doesn't know what to do or say, or what is wrong and Amelia will tell her in her own time. Anya has a pretty good guess, and it gnaws at the back of her mind, and all she can do is roll on her side and scoot closer, and gingerly pulls Amelia into a hug. As Amelia cries, Anya gently rubs her back, fingers massaging in some areas.

At some point, Amelia does fall asleep, and despite how _exhausted_ Anya feels, she forces herself to stay awake a little longer. Finally, she loosens her grip on Amelia and plants a soft kiss on her head. Tomorrow, she promises herself that she'll try to find out what had happened. That's _if_ Amelia wants to talk about it, which she's certain won't want to.

She licks her lips again and wriggles away, and presses another kiss, this time near Amelia's lips. With that, sleep finally conquers Anya.

When morning does come around, Anya is rudely woken up by Nikolai pounding on her bedroom door and Anya groans a little. At first, she's confused as to why Amelia is sleeping in her bed until last night comes back, slowly. Something akin to sympathy comes back, and Anya wriggles out of Amelia's grip and starts to get dressed.

Amelia joins her downstairs a half an hour later, with Nikolai shooting her a dirty look before disappearing into his room for the day.

"Hungry?" Anya asks. Amelia shakes her head and slumps into the kitchen chair. "I asked my parents if you could stay with us until college starts." Once again, the American says nothing. "They agreed."

"Thank you," Amelia says, her voice still quiet. "I really appreciate it." She draws in a deep breath. "I should be able to grab some clothes a little later this afternoon, if you don't mind."

Fears confirmed, Anya nods. "I don't mind that. Is that when your parents will be at work?"

"Somethin' like that," she mumbles. "No risk of them coming home." Anya reaches under the table and grabs Amelia's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "_Fuck_, Anya. I hate this."

"I cannot imagine being in your spot." Anya moves into the seat next to Amelia, and threads her fingers through Amelia's curly blonde hair and catches it in some knots. She awkwardly tries to pull them through without hurting the other. "I am sorry."

"'s not your fault." Amelia rests her arms on the table and buries her face in them.

For now, they sit in silence, just like last night.


End file.
